


Open Hands

by meredithhildebrand



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, M/M, Penny being the only sane one in their household, Simon becoming the sweet cinnamon roll that we all know and love, So much angst, and Baz being a pretentious idiot but come one when is he not, and Baz loves Simon so so so much, because he lost his magic and maybe almost Baz, but at the end of this EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY I PROMISE, but only the first and second chapter will have them, but seriously though Simon is probably a lot more fucked up than people make him out to be, finding happiness, oh plus nightmares, she's such a bad ass and I love it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredithhildebrand/pseuds/meredithhildebrand
Summary: I'm running. I'm running and running and running, and I've never ran this fast before in my life, towards the White Chapel. The cold, winter air hits my face in sharp tendrils and my feet slip and slide in the thin layers of snow, and all I'm doing is staring at the bright, white light coming from the tower in the distance. I can hear my heart beating in my throat, and my lungs burn and ache and I don't know how much longer I can run without collapsing to the ground, but no. No, I have to keep going. I have to stop him, because if I don't, then no one else will.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

**_SIMON_ **

 

I'm running. I'm running and running and running, and I've never ran this fast before in my life, towards the White Chapel. The cold, winter air hits my face in sharp tendrils and my feet slip and slide in the thin layers of snow, and all I'm doing is staring at the bright, white light coming from the tower in the distance. I can hear my heart beating in my throat, and my lungs burn and ache and I don't know how much longer I can run without collapsing to the ground, but no. No, I have to keep going. I have to stop him, because if I don't, then no one else will. 

Being The Chosen One isn't at all what people think it is. It's worse. Merlin, it's worse. It's constantly having to watch your back, to always run faster, always faster, than the person behind you. It's having to realize that there's really not much on this planet that we can change, even if we're told that since we're somehow "chosen", by some sort of huge, out-of-this-world being, we can.  

Because the world is a fucked up place, and we think that somehow, we have the power, the ability, to change it.

No fucking way. We just don't. 

 

                              ***

Maybe minutes, maybe even hours, have past, but blood. So much blood, and it's all I see. I'm holding the dead Mage's body in my arms, and I don't know what to do. My heart is pounding in my throat and I think that I can hear someone talking, maybe shouting, to me off in the distance but I don't know what they're saying because all that's running through my head is that I'm a failure. A fucking failure. 

I didn't think that something like this would happen. Because things like this, things like death, don't happen to people like me. At least not like this.

And then I feel someone's arms wrapping around me and it feels like I'm coming up from the depths of the ocean for air, and someone with black hair and fiery eyes is staring down at me. I can see his mouth moving, but I can't hear him. I don't know if my heart is beating anymore, because all I hear is ringing in my ears and it feels like the Earth has stopped turning, pausing and taking everything away with it. 

 _I can't hear you_ , I want to scream. I want to scream and thrash and yell until I can't anymore, because I've never felt this way before. 

I've never felt as if the ground is breaking apart beneath my feet and my world is falling apart and I'm slipping on the pieces.

Everything feels like it's turned into shambles.

My head feels hazy and my heart is going haywire in my chest cavity and I feel like maybe this is the end. Maybe, just maybe, it's time for me to go. 

I couldn't save the person who made me believe that maybe the world wasn't as bad a place as I once thought it was. I couldn't save the person who made me feel as if I actually have a purpose, here, on this planet. 

And then everything goes black, as if the world suddenly decided to turn off the light switch. 

_Leaving me, all alone, in the dark._

 

**_BAZ_ **

 

"Simon. Simon, _Simon_. Wake up," I say, shaking his shoulders in my hands. He's thrashing and letting out screams of terror and I don't know what's going through his head, but what I do know is that if he doesn't wake up, he might put both of us at risk.

I get on my knees and grab both his wrists in my hands, and press them down against the mattress. The moonlight hits his face is slanting stripes, and he gnashes his teeth together and my heart burns in my chest.

"Simon, wake up. Now," I say, my voice rising in volume. He has to wake up. He has to.

I straddle his waist, holding his wrists in my hands and leaning my face down towards his. I can feel his breath hitting my face, and I open my mouth, whispering a spell.

It's the only spell that I can do without using a wand, and I've only tried it once.

One time, and it worked then. So it has to work now. If it doesn't, I won't know what to do. 

I don't even want to think about that. I can't think about that. Because if I do, then I'll know that it's Simon, here and now, and then I'll realize that the one person in this world who I love unconditionally is suffering right in front of my own eyes.

 _He's in there_. _He's in there somewhere,_ I tell myself. _You just have to find him._

I tighten my grip on his wrists, and almost as if from a reflex, his thrashing slows down and his bronze curls flop over his eyes, and I don't want to know what kind of darkness inside of him is eating him alive. I just can't. 

Because between us, there's still a line that burns and reminds me that there will always be unchangeable differences. There's a line that has always been drawn. A line that can't be erased. 

A line that reminds me how different I truly am, compared to him. Because he's selfless, and strong, and brave, and _Crowley, all of the things that I'm not._

"Simon," I whisper, my breathing low. I can hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest and his blood rushing through his veins, and my own heart aches for him. 

Because he doesn't deserve this. He's better than this, and he's such a better person than I am, and Merlin, why is he given the burden of this? 

"Wake up, Simon. You're okay, you're not alone. You're alive. Alive. Alive. I love you," I say, and his bronze curls are spread over his closed eyelids, and I wish that I could reach into his mind and grab his nightmare and crush it between my fingertips, but...

The world doesn't work that way.

 

**_SIMON_ **

 

"Alive. I love you," I hear someone saying, and I can feel the weight of someone sitting on my waist, and they smell familiar, and it's now that I realize that it's Baz. 

 _Baz. Baz. Baz._  

My breathing comes faster and I open my eyes and there he is, his dark hair falling into his eyes and the moonlight slanting across his face, his eyes boring into mine like a drill. My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel cold fingers wrapped around my wrists, and I look up at Baz, who looks like he's just seen a ghost.

I want to reach out to him, somehow. To let him know that it was just a bad dream, just a trick of the mind. 

_That I'm used to this, by now._

I open my mouth to speak, and that must unleash something in Baz because he lets go of my wrists and pulls me upwards by my shoulders and into his chest, and my nose is filled with the scent of cedar and bergamot, and the tears finally begin to fall from my eyes like storm clouds opening up and letting out out all of the rain.

Because at the end of the day, there's only so much that I can take. And there's only so much that I can bear. 

I scrunch the fabric of his shirt between my fingertips and I can hear his breath stirring the hairs on my head, and his lips press to my temple. It's a fleeting, fast kiss, and I almost don't realize that it happened. 

I know that I'm breathing too fast, much too fast, and my heart will catch up to it and then maybe I'll finally be able to just let go. To finally, finally, _finally_ be able to be fucking _free_ of all of it. 

I press my teeth together and pull myself away, and Baz's eyes are dark. Still full of fire. His own flames, and they remind me of how much stronger he is than I am.

 _He doesn't even realize it,_ I tell myself. _He just is. That's just him_. 

I exhale and my eyes are still burning, and then the multitude of everything that's happened to me three months ago comes flooding back like water and I know that I'm fucked up, I _know, I know, I know,_ and I want to be better. I want to get out of this tunnel. I want to be able to finally be _okay_ again. 

Sometimes, it's all I really want. It's what keeps me going. What keeps me sane.

It's what forces me to stay here, on this planet. In this world.

Because I can't help but feel as if there has to be a way out of this, somehow. A way to make light appear. A way to get rid of the darkness that's embedded itself into my mind, into my veins, into my heart.

 _A way to make light._  I'll find it. I have to. Maybe it'll be today, or tomorrow. Hell, maybe it'll be six months from now.

But I'm not letting go of it. Because if there's one thing, one _fucking_ thing that I've learned, it's that there's always some sort of light out there.

_I just have to grab it, and never let go of it._

 

_~TO BE CONTINUED~_


	2. Chapter 2

**_SIMON_ **

 

I can't fall asleep for the rest of the night. After Baz woke me up, I was trembling in his arms for what could've been minutes, or even hours. But now, Baz is sleeping beside me, gripping my hand in his as if it's a lifeline. Tight, tight, tight. I think he's close to cutting off my circulation but I don't have the desire to let go, because honestly, his touch is making me feel grounded.

Or, as grounded as I _can_ be, after having a nightmare like that. 

And I don't want to float away again. I can't. Because one day, I know that I actually will and Baz won't be able to pull me back down like he has before, again and again. 

And at that point, I don't think that anything will be able to. 

I look down at him, the moonlight slanting across his face and his black hair falling across his closed eyes, and I can see his chest rising and falling with the intake of breath. 

I swallow, and slowly lie down beside him, and I stare up at the ceiling. I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. 

I swallow, my eyes close slowly, and I focus on breathing. Breathing in, and out. In and out. It's a method that I've learned from my therapist, and even though I don't think it's helping me at all, I'm desperate for relief. _Any_ sort of relief, at this point. It's almost funny. 

 _Inhale_.

I can hear my heart slowing down to an average rate.

 _Exhale_.

I blink a couple of times, letting in light, and then bringing in darkness.

 _Inhale_.

I think that I'm closer to becoming calmer, but I'm not sure. It's still hard to tell. 

 _Exhale_.

I focus on Baz's fingers wrapped around mine. I focus on every sleepless night, when he's been there for me unconditionally, without wavering.

I focus on the way his eyes soften when he says my name, how his gentle fingers cause me to feel as if maybe, I'm not actually as damaged as I think I am. 

I focus on _him_. All of the happiness. All of the pain.

He's just always been there. Through everything, and I still don't know if there's a way to repay him for all of it.

I turn my head towards his, and brush my fingers over his cheekbone. It's cool against the warmth of my fingertips, and I inch closer until I can almost feel his breath hitting my shoulder. 

I want to let him in. I want him to reach into me and take out all of the garbage that's taken up space, and I want to give him all of me.

It's always been about the chase with us. Always. It's been chasing after the other, and almost getting them.

The amount of times that I've almost twisted the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, the amount of times that I've could've looked him straight in the eyes and say, " _I've got you,"_ is too many. It's immense. 

I've always been close to him. Too close, even when I should've been far away from him.

Until three months ago, we were both standing on opposite sides of a line. And now, that line is blurred, and if I focus hard enough, it just disappears.

An endless game, an endless cycle, of always getting too close but not quite close enough.

 _A waiting game_.

I exhale, and open and close my eyes, and the room feels like it's slowly spinning. I try to calm my breathing but my skin fills with warmth and I feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. 

And I want this to _stop_. I'm done. Just done.

_Stop. Stop. Stop._

I focus on my breathing, and after a few minutes, I can feel the darkness, the pain and the fear, fading away and my vision clears. 

I swallow and exhale, and I try to move my hand out of Baz's, but as soon as I try, his grip tightens and he presses closer to me. His hair brushes against my neck and it makes my skin burn. 

"Baz?" I whisper, softly. I don't hear him reply, but I don't want him to wake up either. I just need to be alone. 

Eventually, sleep must finally arrive because I feel myself drifting off, back into the darkness that pulls me in and drags me underneath.

 

**_BAZ_ **

 

When I wake up in the morning, the room is still dark, and the bed is empty. Panic floods through my mind and I sit up, shoving the covers aside and standing. My heartbeat quickens in my chest and I walk towards the door, and I open it slowly and glance down the hallway. I can't hear anything.

"Simon?" I call, and I swear that I hear something, and I begin to walk down the hallway, my footsteps soft on the floor. I don't think that Penelope is awake yet, and I glance at her bedroom door to see that it's closed. 

When I make it into the living room, I see Simon, lying on the couch with his head towards the back of it, and his head facing away from me. My heart burns and stings in my chest, and I walk over to him, and sit down slowly. I can see his body stiffening. 

I exhale, and sit down next to him on the couch, and gently set my hand down on his shoulder. He flinches away, and I swallow.

"Simon?" I ask, and he just shakes his head. I wish I could know what he's thinking. I wish that I could help him. 

 _I wish that I could make him feel okay again._  

Slowly, gently, I lie down beside him on my side, and wrap an arm around his waist and let the other one curl around his head. When I open my mouth to speak, his curls tickle my jawline, and I close my eyes.

"I'm here, love," I whisper. "I'm here." 

His breath is shaky when he exhales, and I gently brush his chest with my fingertips and I kiss the back of his head. I can tell that he's still not completely leaning into me, so I kiss him again, and again, and again. His curls smell like cinnamon and I feel one of his hands fumbling for mine, so I meet him halfway, letting my fingers intertwine with his. My skin burns as his fingers touch mine, and I swallow and exhale.

Simon shifts, and his back presses into my chest, and I've never been this close to another human being before. I've never felt this feeling, of being able to hold someone this close to me. But all I know is that I want to help him, I think I may want it more than anything else. 

I don't know if he knows it, but he's already done so much for me. 

So this is the least that i can do for him, after what he's done.

He's kept me _here_. Even after all I wanted was to leave. He's managed to keep me alive, all this time. Managed to give me the desire to keep breathing.

I don't think he knows the multitude of that, but if he does, he doesn't show it. And I don't mind. 

_I don't think he knows how much he really means to me._

_He's kept me down. He's kept me pulled down from his own gravity._

_He's everything that I need, and I can't let him go._

I close my eyes and breath him in, and slowly manage to nudge an arm underneath his neck. He shakily exhales and I can smell the scent of tears on his breath.

"I love you," I whisper, and Simon's breath is sharp as he inhales. His fingers grip mine tightly. 

 

_**SIMON** _

 

Baz nuzzles closer to me, and his lips brush against my neck. My skin tingles and my stomach fills with butterflies, and I blink a few times just to get the tears out of them. 

I exhale heavily. Feeling Baz's body against mine, this close, is something else. Sure, we've become close these last few months, but it's been mainly just thousand-mile stares and our hands gripping each other's tightly. 

It's been nothing like _this_. And I know that I'm mostly to blame, because I'm still locked up. 

And this, this is what I want. Now, at least. _This_ is what I need. 

_I can't keep myself in the dark forever._

Baz's fingers brush against my collarbone and it makes my skin tingle, and my eyes grow warm. My heart pounds heavily in my chest and I try to get the darkness out of my brain, but I can't. And it's infuriating.

It's not like I want it there. In fact, it's the only thing in my life right now that I want to get rid of, and the realization that I _can't_ get rid of it is the biggest part of the battle.

Baz kisses the back of my neck, jarring me from my thoughts, and I must've done _something_ to ignite this because he presses himself impossibly closer to me, and I want to feel a struggle, I want to feel like I don't want him here, but I can't.

Because his touch, and him being this close to me, is one of the nicest things that I've ever felt in my life, and I fear that his hold on me is keeping me together and if he lets go, I might fall apart into pieces. 

Baz inhales, grips my hand in his, and kisses the back of my neck again. He lets his lips linger there for a few seconds, and I'm overwhelmed. Completely overwhelmed, and I'm still not used to this side of him. 

I know that I haven't been good at letting people in, but Baz is one of the few who I have. And I'm afraid that once he sees how broken I actually feel, he'll want to run. 

_Because in the end, people always run when things get too much for them._

And I don't know if I can lose Baz. Not after everything that we've both been through.  I don't want to, and I can't imagine a life, a world, without him. It's unfathomable. 

I swallow, and grip Baz's hand in mine so tight that I think I might crush them, but all he does is press closer and kisses my neck gently. My head grows hazy, and my stomach grows warmer than it's felt for this whole night. 

I can hear Baz exhaling behind me, and he brushes my chest with his fingers, and for some reason they feel like hot trails of fire running across my skin. 

My heart is beating heavily in my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them up again. I swallow. 

_I want to let go._

"Baz?" I murmur, and Baz hums, kissing my curls. 

 _I want to be free_.

I feel him moving, and when I turn my head slightly, I can see that he's pressed himself up onto his elbows. His eyes bore into mine, full of fire, but his own. I can recognize it; it's the type of fire that he gets in his eyes when he's being protective. The thought electrifies my veins, and I swallow.

"How can you do this?" I ask, through half-shut eyes. My heart pounds and I can feel the prickling of tears behind my eyes, and I curse myself for being so weak. 

I can hear him exhaling, and he swallows, slowly running his fingers through my hair. He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, and he stays like that, cool lips to my warm skin, for a long time. 

I almost lose count of the minutes of just Baz's and my own breathing mixing together until Baz brings his head back up. His hand goes back to my curls, his fingers winding in the strands, and I heavily exhale. 

The tears threaten to fall from my eyes, and I feel like cracking open. My breath stops in my throat and I collapse into Baz's chest, my head hitting against his collarbone.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice breaking and cracking in my throat, and Baz wraps his arms around me and pulls my shaking body into his chest. His skin is warm against mine and I swear that I've never felt this weak, this insignificant, in my whole life but all I know is that I'm fucking _done_ with it. 

My breathing is heavy against Baz, and I can't stop crying. I just can't; the tears keep falling, falling, and falling. 

And Baz just stays there the whole time, my tears dampening his shirt's fabric and my snot running down my face. I'm a mess, and Baz is taking it all, not leaving. Not getting up, not saying anything. 

He's just _here_. And I can tell by his hold on me that he's not going to let go anytime soon. 

 _He's not going to let go_. 

           

                                 ~END~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading this next chapter, it means so much! this style of writing is still sort of new to me, so if you have any feedback or constructive criticism, feel completely free to comment! I really like seeing what people think of my work so that I can improve my writing.  
> also, I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar errors. I'm extremely lazy and don't really have desire to edit or change them. just imagine that they're not there.  
> anyway, thank you all! the next chapter should be up fairly soon, but I'm not going to make any promises.  
> thank you all for reading:)


	3. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's still the same boy that I fell in love with all those years ago. 
> 
>  
> 
> He's just a boy. Just like me. 
> 
>  
> 
> We still match.

**_BAZ_ **

 

 

I don't know how many minutes I hold Simon in my arms, but I can't imagine myself letting go. Even if my eyelids are unbearably heavy, and the longing for fresh blood is slowly filling my body, inch by inch. 

He's gone quiet now, and I slowly adjust myself so that he's more in my lap, and his head falls against my collarbone. He's warm against me and I can hear his breath exiting his mouth and his fingers slowly fumbling around my wrist. He's still shaking, and his breaths are unsteady.

I run my fingers slowly through his hair and press a kiss to his curls, letting my lips linger there for a few seconds.

I didn't know that this side of Simon was so dominant at times. When we were at Watford, he was more often than not standing strong, with his jaw set and his blue-flame eyes setting everything he looked at ablaze.

_I remember thinking that he was a supernova. A massive being of pure magic, a being of raw, untouched power._

_He could do anything. Back up any promise, finish any curse, any desire._

_If he wanted, he had enough power to set the world aflame._

I couldn't _stand_ that someone so incorrigible, so negligent, could hold that much infinity inside of them.

At the time, before I found out that I loved him and even after, it made my blood boil. 

In my head, at that time, I thought that feeling that way was right. I had never been wrong before, and I hadn't learned what it meant to feel completely useless or broken. 

 

So now, when we're finally learning how to let our walls down, I'm not sure that he's the same person that I always thought he was. 

He's still unbelievably strong, I have no doubt about that. It's just that I think his strength he relied so much at Watford is finally starting to slowly unravel, and I now know that's covered in more cracks than I thought.

_I've discovered more scars, more wounds, that I can count._

_More cuts that I somehow still don't know how to fix or to heal._

I look down at him, and slowly rest my hand on the side of his face and run my thumb softly over the skin. It's warm and it's still the same light shade of gold that I embedded into my mind so many years ago. 

In more ways than one, he hasn't changed at all. He's still fierce, still everything that he always was. 

He's still the same boy that I fell in love with all those years ago. 

 

_He's just a boy. Just like me._

 

 _We still match._  

 

I slowly exhale, and rest my head against the back of the couch, my eyes catching on the ceiling. My stomach stirs almost painfully and I can feel the need for blood surfacing, and I push it down, even though I know it never goes away for very long.

If I could, I would somehow find a way to get rid of all of the shit that he has to deal with, but the world doesn't work that way. Not even for people with the ability to create magic. 

 

_The world is the same for everyone._

 

After a few long minutes, I let my eyes close slowly, and the force of sleep pulls me down and drags me underneath. 

 

 

                             END 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, I finally got the time to write this mess of a chapter.  
> I am so so sorry that it's so short, but the next chapter should be longer.   
> I'm also sorry for not updating this sooner, but unfortunately I've been crazy busy recently and haven't had the time to write.   
> i'm just all over the place, and if this isn't that good or interesting, I'm really sorry.   
> the next chapter should have more happening in it:)   
> anyway, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read this, it means so much to me:)

**Author's Note:**

> wow. I haven't written this much angst in a while, but this will likely be the beginning of a 5-chapter fic, that's updated either weekly or bi-weekly, depending on time, because you know. Summer.  
> anyway, I don't really have a major plot-line ready for this story yet, but I really want to find one so that this is actually interesting and worth reading.  
> I hope that you guys all enjoyed this, and if you did, I hope that you'll stick around:)  
> thank you all for reading this first chapter!


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